Berkley Center

The daily trials and tribulations of the exchange student often revolve around cultural faux paus, grammatical failures, and intimidating colloquial accents, but, beyond the everyday mediocrity, we are ultimately students of culture.

During the last week of classes before break, I was sitting through "Principles of Competitive Economics" (Wettbewerbspolitik), when, with five minutes left, the professor asked the class what the real world costs of corporate fusions are.

Surrounded in a tight room, filled with 140 students, all of whom literally had rulers at the ready to ensure their graphs were composed of only the straightest lines, there was a brief silence. The crashing waves of chatter, caused by the perpetual opening and closing of pencil cases, ceased. The page flipping stopped. And the buzzing of the overhead was suddenly the loudest thing in the room.

Plainly written on the next page of notes was an explanation of how rising consumer costs can be detrimental, so I sat back, stunned by the hesitation of the rest of the class. I assumed the class had made some unspoken agreement to force the professor to close the lecture early through devious non-participation. I would be, all too soon, proved incorrect in my quick assumption.

The question was rephrased as, "“Come on guys, why would a fusion not be preferable for the public?”"

Hands reliably rose up from the sea of anxious faces. The first five answers were as follows: 

-"Damage to the natural environment." 

- "People could be laid off, as a result." 

- "Health Insurance premiums for employees, who receive their insurance through the fusing corporations, could face increased premiums." 

- "Current contracts with other corporations could be compromised." 

- "Re-licensing could take significantly long."

It was one of those “Dorothy'’s-not-in-Kansas-anymore” moments. I quickly copied down what I had just heard in my notebook, because my very capitalist expectations were stunned by the concern for labor rights, the environment, and continuation of efficient daily business my fellow students had expressed.

The correct answer to the question, as the professor had posed it, was that rising consumer costs could result from the hypothetical scenario, especially in the event of a duopoly fusing, but the subject matter was less impressive to me, in that moment, than the people sitting around me. While the professor seemed almost annoyed with the earnest answers he received, I felt a sense of optimistic pride swell up inside of me. It was like I was back in second grade again, talking with friends about which one of us would grow up and save the world. Who was going to cure AIDS, who was going to build a bridge across the Atlantic, who was going to land on Mars. On this day in December, I had found myself in a room of completely grown up people, none of whom thought it was odd to be so concerned about these issues.

I drifted off thinking about last fall semester when, as a sophomore, I had answered constituent calls for dozens of hours at the Capital Hill Office of Senator Robert Menendez. Those were dozens of hours of citizens calling in to voice their concern that expanding health insurance coverage to many poorer Americans was immoral.

Whether you supported Obama'’s health care reform bill or not, as Americans of our time and generation, we must admit to ourselves that we were not raised in a society where a “right to health care coverage” was taken seriously. The ability to afford to pay doctor’s' bills, without huge sacrifice, is a privilege and not a given. In Germany, by contrast, even whispers of austerity, financed through increases to tuition costs to students or cuts to social welfare programs, regularly draws large-scale protests and strikes, as happened as recently as this summer. Shortly after arriving in Munich this October, the public transportation employees were striking regarding the negotiation of new contracts, causing massive backups and widespread discontent.

Many Americans are quick to talk about how inefficient unions can be at their worst, but, at the same time, everyone dreams of an ideal boss who spends time worried about the standard of living of his employees.

As Americans, we are, throughout our elementary years, fed “"Words of the Month"”: perseverance, honestly, thankfulness. We are taught to respect people of every creed, race, and nationality. But, though I've participated in food drives and trick-or-treating for UNICEF, I've been pleasantly surprised by an unfamiliar type of shameless, hands-on humanitarian concern and awareness I‘'ve encountered here.

There are positives and negatives to every society and every system of government that either agree or disagree with our own preferences and beliefs, but the generosity and impressive social awareness of the Germans I've met is, in my opinion, an example from which the United States could learn a lesson or two. We need American students, too, who will grow up to be unafraid to talk about environment and/or social impacts of projects to the big scary boards and committees, that many of us will one day face.

At the end of the day, we all have idealistic goals as well as professional ones. Whether increasing green space or improving the health of our own neighborhoods, my hope is that, as our generation ages, we will be able to change social norms, such that we will not hesitate when voicing our concerns for issues that we care about, just like the brave friends of mine in Wettbewerbspolitik.